


gift of the spirit

by birdhymns



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, because I had Thoughts about El not picking a successor in their shared ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdhymns/pseuds/birdhymns
Summary: Edelgard has no faith in gods, and her wariness of many remains.But she has faith in Wisdom.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Lysithea von Ordelia
Kudos: 57





	gift of the spirit

You have largely come to terms with what it means to rule, the efforts necessary to send Fódlan on a new course, to ensure that it will continue to spin on that way, that the people will never again have to suffer for Crests. It is not a fight you are alone for, a fact you are grateful for every day.

But there remains duties that fall to you to tend, a procession of meetings and concerns with your patience fraying beneath their feet, and sometimes, you just need to be away for a moment.

Like, for example, right now, as you leave another headache of a meeting.

“Hubert, if anyone comes looking for me in the next hour, unless it’s an emergency, redirect them elsewhere.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” He bows, before making himself scarce.

A breath departs from you, bearing away what weariness it can carry. You still seek the comfort of a strategically placed bench, where a small stand of poplars provide reprieve from the heat of the summer sun.

It's not yet hot—you wouldn't have come out here otherwise—but you still welcome the cool shade, leaning against rough bark, yet careful to keep your hair from snagging. You wouldn't have time to completely redo it, not without cutting your rest short.

Even as you make yourself comfortable, a dozen different worries and those tied to them come to mind; they simmer uncomfortably in the confines of your skull, nagging to be heard. You force them aside, fixating on a light shaft that had managed to slip past the lattice of leaves interlaced above you, carved stone glowing where it strikes.

You know yourself well enough to recognise the twist under your breastbone for what it is. The desire to go somewhere else, be someone else, be free of what being you in your current situation meant. But you scold yourself, wrestle that urge back down. You'd endured far worse pain. The work today is no less necessary. And you owed it, to both the dead and the living, to see this through. For it to be naught in the end would spit in the face of all those who'd suffered for this.

So you only sigh, tuck your chin against your chest with your hands folded in your lap, and close your eyes.

And you swear, it's only for a moment before you hear the sounds of footsteps along the cobblestone, and you have to twist your irritation into a tight coil where it won't be visible. It wouldn't do to menace a messenger with important news because your fatigue weighs heavily. Allowing yourself one more deep breath, you sit up straight, looking up as you say, "Yes?"

Lysithea looks back at you, her travelling cloak about her shoulders, a tray with a teapot, a plate of small cakes, and cups in hand. Flyaway hair and fatigue speaks of her ride back, but her eyes are still bright and amusement easily heard as she says, "Sleeping in the middle of the day, El? And what if an assassin had come after you?"

The sight before you catches and pulls the weight of the day off you like a hook snagging a veil. You smile and motion for her to take a seat beside you on the bench as you reply, "Then Hubert would have politely told them I was unavailable, I'm sure. And if not him, I would have, far less politely. Did you just return?"

"Yes." She hands you the tray before she sits, a long breath pulled out from her as she does. "Took some time, but I think we won't have to worry about trouble there. Until the harvest, anyway. If they start getting ideas, it'll be then."

"That's plenty of time. Excellent work as always, Lys." You wait until she takes her cup of tea—which is immediately set aside—and the plate of cakes—this she holds in one hand—before lifting your own, setting the tray down to take in later. You sip delicately, letting the tartness roll over your tongue and rouse your spirit. It almost does as much for you as the sight of Lysithea battling between eagerness and propriety as she cuts bites off the cakes with one of the provided forks. You can't help but smile.

She's halfway through her second cake when she glances over at you, and her fork pauses mid-press while embarrassment colours the tips of her ears. "Do you want some?"

The opportunity to tease is not one you resist. "You mean those aren't all for you?"

The pink in her ears spreads to her cheeks, though she lifts her chin and replies as evenly as she can, "Hubert handed them to me before I even reached my room. So, no, it's not like I was planning to eat a whole plate."

"Initially."

"Edelgard."

You hold up a hand in surrender, though you can't quite restrain your smile. "I'll have one. I'm not terribly hungry, right now."

"Alright." She holds the plate out between you, turning it so the second fork's in easy reach, and continues to eat at a steady pace.

By the time you finish your share, she's eaten all but the last. To your surprise, she stops and motions to but does not touch it. "Do you want to split it?"

You frown, head tilting as your eyes flit over her. "Not going to finish? Are you ill?"

"…And what is that supposed to mean, El?" She glowers, and somehow manages to look intimidating, even with a blush still decorating her face.

There's a thrill down your spine. To tweak the nose of one of the most prodigious mages you know might not be wise. But then, you weren't being called Wisdom among the people; Lys was. And who could you tease and jest with, if not her? So you give her a beatific smile. "Only that I know better to expect any sweets to remain uneaten with you near."

"Very funny, El." She huffs before muttering, "I shouldn't have worried."

You blink. "Worried over what?"

The question earns you a prod to your shoulder. "Over _you_. When I came back and Hubert gave me the tray, he told me you'd asked to not be bothered after your one meeting today. From the way he said it, I thought you'd be tearing through dummies at the training grounds."

"Ah." You turn over words, choosing which to use even as you marvel at how her concern quietly, lightly, squeezes your chest. "It's true that the meeting…could have gone better."

"They always could," she wryly points out, "But it rarely bothers you."

"I've been thinking of the future. The path up until now. The path beyond this point." Your gaze shifts to the leaves above, stirring in invisible waves. "Where I saw myself in all this, and, after. It isn't right, that one person holds so much power. Inevitably the changes I seek will mean I must pass the mantle on to many, if I want to be sure that, that particular element is set in place."

Lysithea nods. "Are you afraid of giving it up?"

"A little. There will be those who try to take advantage of the transition period. But simultaneously…I know I present a risk as well."

"You say that like I wouldn't intervene if you got to that point. Or even let you near that point in the first place."

You find you can laugh, soft and low. It's always easier to do so with Lysithea near. "I know. I know that. With you near and navigating for me, that worry never lingers long." You smile fondly at her, reaching out to lay your hand over hers, curl the tips of your fingers into her palm, give some outlet for the warmth spreading through your chest. "So remain by my side, and be the eyes to guide me until the end, hm? I would be in a sorry state without you."

She is thoroughly pink now, though she doesn't look displeased. "How you can say that so shamelessly, I'll never know."

"You make me honest, Lys, what can I say?"

"And apparently a tease."

You press your forehead to hers, your worries shed away. It's a wonder, her presence. You could never say enough to show that. But you try. "You help me be more."

She chuckles, shakes her head, and when the laugh passes she twines your fingers together. "Alright, alright, since you asked so nicely. But I won't accept anything less from you, El. If you want me to stay, you better be ready."

"Of course." You squeeze, and hold to her, hold to the feeling of her hand in yours. How blessed you are. "For you, Lysithea, anything."

**Author's Note:**

> ‘Wisdom I loved and searched for from my youth; I resolved to have her as my bride, I fell in love with her beauty…. I therefore determined to take her to share my life, knowing that she would be my counsellor in prosperity and comfort me in cares and sorrow.' (Wis 8:2, 9)


End file.
